An Island Never Cries
by bikelock28
Summary: "It's him who can't thinkof anything apart from his next lay. You could really hurt him, and not in a hot way. "So anyway, give me ten minutes to get the place in order," So he can finish with this girl, and then be ready to support you. Because that's the kind of friend he is"... we all love Barney too much to admit what a bastard he is in 4.05 Shelter Island. T/R B/R. Ch2 now up!
1. Chapter 1

**No one seems to have mentioned that in this episode, Barney risks ruining Ted and Stella's relationship (of course, it does in fact get ruined) only because he wants to hook up with Robin. Obviously, the ****_reason_**** we love Barney is because he's selfish and manipulative and has a total disregard for other people, but that still seems really, really unkind…. but of course we end up empathising with him. Damn you NPH, how do you make this character so lovelable?!**

**Set during 4.05 _Shelter Island. _Robin's PoV. I don't own HIMYM, or the dialogue used here.**

An Island Never Cries

_I am a rock, _

_I am an island. _

_Don't talk of love_

Simon & Garfunkel, I Am A Rock

"You would not believe the trip I just had," you tell Ted, because you are _exhausted. _It's not the most riveting conversation considering he's one of your closest friends, but it's the best you can do "I was on a plane for almost a full day. But it was worth it to see you get married," you lie bracingly. _Ted I don't want to see you get married._ "How could I not be here?" _Ted I really don't want to be here. _

Then, he surprises you. "You can't come to the wedding,"

Maybe if you were less tired you could hide you relief, but as it is you can't help but exclaim, "Oh, thank God!"

"What?"

"Ted, it's weird,"

"It's not weird,"

"It _is_ weird. Do you know how it feels to be somebody's ex at their wedding?" He wants everything to be okay, and you love him for it. But because he never wants anything to be painful of awkward, so he'll never admit when it is. And it _is._

"We broke up over a year ago," protests Ted, like that makes it all fine. Real life isn't like one of Barney's theories, where once you've waited the allotted time, or performed the required steps, the situation is fine and you can move on. Because the world where those theories work is Barney's world, devoid of complication or emotion or regret.

"Yeah, but that's not that long ago," It doesn't feel like that long ago. It feels like a few weeks, and you know that you do a good job of hiding it, but you miss him, and you're jealous of Stella because, because…because it used to be you and Ted, and now it's her and Ted. You only realised when they got engaged that you hadn't given up on you and Ted. "Watching you marry another woman isn't exactly something I was looking forward to," you admit. Not that it _should _be you, but it _could _be you. And in all honesty, you…you kind of thought he felt the same.

"I don't know, I just thought if I ever changed my mind about marriage and kids, it was it was nice to know that you were there,"

"So I was your safety school- how flattering," he snaps. You can't blame him, because that is what it sounds like. The embarrassing truth is he's more than that.

"That's not it," you backpedal, and this conversation seems to be getting dangerously close to you saying _I think I'm still in love with you. I don't want to give us another chance- not yet- but can you not marry Stella in case I ever do? _It sounds pathetic and selfish, the sort of thing sad, needy stock characters say in dumb romance novels would say. But lately you've been thinking to yourself that it's the truth. That your move to Japan was to get away from this mess.

"Why are you bringing any of this up?" continues Ted "There's nothing between us anymore,"

It's not a knife to your heart- he's marrying someone else so it's hardly a shock that he feels that way. You feel ashamed because in your eyes: "Maybe there is. I mean, of course there is,"

This is going too deep. You didn't know you wanted out of this conversation, but it wasn't this. It wasn't the humiliation of admitting that you still have feelings for him, when he obviously doesn't for you. "That kind of stuff doesn't just disappear without a trace". Not for you in any case. "Look, I'm not just another guest here, Ted," you finish weakly.

"Right," he says firmly "We used to date, but we both moved on," _Speak for yourself, Mosby._

"And, look, we got what we wanted- I'm getting married, you got your dream job in Tokyo,"

He says it like it's all you both ever wanted, like wanting different things was the entire reason for your break-up. And yes, it _is_ what you both want and it was the _main_ reason you split up- but it isn't not _entirely_ what you both want, and there were other reasons you broke up too.

"And they all lived happily ever,"

Perhaps you will, but it doesn't feel like that now. It feels like you're pining after him and he's allowing himself to be folded into a life which isn't his. And that dream job wasn't a dream. And before you know it, you're blurting out-

"I quit my job,"

"You what?"

"I'm moving back to New York," _I missed you all too much. I missed _you _too much. I need you more than I admit _

" I thought I wanted that job, but I want to come back to my real life," _I'm more of a coward than you think. "_And I think you should go back to yours," _You're less of a coward than you're being._

"What's that supposed to mean?" retorts Ted defensively.

"Don't get married," _Way to be obvious, Scherbatsky._

You backtrack._ "_Look, you're rushing into this. It's like you're trying to skip ahead to the end of the book," _Even if the book doesn't end with us together, you can't rush to the last chapter. You have to wait it out. _"Ted, you're the most romantic guy I know. You stole a blue French horn for me- you tried to make it rain!"

"I did make it rain,"- see, there he is, believing the power of faith and true love.

"It was a coincidence," you snap back anyway, "But after all that, this is how your great romantic quest comes to an end? You're just disappearing into someone else's wedding, someone else's house, someone else's life without a second thought," Can't he see that he deserves more? Someone as hopeful as him should get a better ending than this. A story as good as his should be shouldn't finish this way. "That's not the amazing ending that you deserve," _Even if I don't deserve you. _"That's not Ted Mosby,"

You look him in the eye. You see the thoughts wrestle behind his eyes. You don't want him to leave Stella- you just want him to stop and think. Forever goes by. Then-

"I love Stella. She's the one,"

Strangely enough, you don't feel anything when he says these words, and he continues quietly, "If you really feel that way I guess it's a good thing you're not coming to the wedding after all"

Ted Mosby walks away. He doesn't look back.

* * *

You meander around the lobby, aimless. After a while, you get sick of it. You wonder what you should do. You glance at your phone, flicking through recent texts…Lily, Katie, Jack from Metro News 1, Barney…Barney. He always makes you laugh. He's a sexist, insensitive jerk, but right now that sexist, insensitive jerk might be exactly what you need. He'll tease you for being upset and he'll call you pathetic- but you'll laugh despite yourself. Perhaps the laughter will end up being tears, and before you know it you'll be crying. And perhaps he'll put his arm around you and let you cry against him like he did a few months ago.

A few months ago-when Barney comforting you led to something more, and before you know you were kissing him and pulling clothes off him and having sex. God, what if that happens again? At first, the thought makes you panic and want to back out; things were so awkward afterwards, even between you and Ted though you tried to ignore it. But things are dire with you and Ted right now, and if he cares about you so little, he won't care if you hook up with Barney again, will he? (You're not sure if you're hoping he will care or if he won't). And that night with Barney was undeniably _fantastic. _Aside from the complication which followed…the taste of his lips, the way you rolled around together, the delicious movement of his muscles under your palms -you can see why he think he's God's gift to women (though you'll die before you'll admit that to him).

Maybe letting Barney go to town on you is exactly what you need.

You retrieve the smuggled scotch from your bag- and then you realise something alarming. _You've had sex with Barney Stinson before, and that situation didn't end well. Now you feel vulnerable because of an ex, and you're going back to Barney to forget about it. _

God, he's _good_, isn't he?- because this is what Barney wants from every girl. This is how he operates. This is how Barney sets up every situation- to work in his favour, to get a girl into bed. This scenario probably isn't designed for _you _specificallyto be that girl, but right now you may well _be_ that girl. _He's almost got you under his thumb_, _Scherbatsky._

Bad idea then. You consider going to see Lily- she's your best friend and she's good at talking things through, and she's known Ted forever…but she'll probably be fussing about Stella and enjoying organising everybody. She'll be too busy. And she's too close to Ted to fully sympathise with you. Marshall's the same- of course he'll side with Ted. He'll do anything for Ted (you admire that about him). There's no one else you know here at this stupid, hurried, last-minute wedding. Ted Mosby's wedding- whoever it's to- should be beautiful and come at the end of a fairytale romance. Not at the end of a six-month engagement to a girl he met removing the tattoo he got on the rebound from _you._

You ball your fist up and swipe it through the air. Man, you really need someone to talk to right now. You're hurt and jet-lagged- and there's really no one else.

Well then. This is what it's come to, has it?

"Excuse me, do you have the room number for Barney Stinson?"

* * *

The first thing you notice is his chest. The ripple of muscles beneath his skin, the visible hardness of his pectorals, the fact that he looks devastatingly sexy in pyjama bottoms and an unbuttoned shirt. You're not in love with him- for all the obvious reasons- but God he _is _gorgeous.

"Hey, Robin,"

His voice is croaky. That's the second thing you notice. The third is the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and the fourth is that your head would fit perfectly under his chin. And perhaps then he'd put his arms around you and you'd pretend not to be crying into his shirt collar. You'd breath in his scent- which would probably be weird, because you remember that he smells of sex and risk, whereas at the moment you want the smell of something safe and comforting. But ultimately, you really don't care.

"Barney," you say with a tired sigh "I am having a _horrible_ day,". Understatement of the year. You just flew from Tokyo to New York, which is stressful enough. On top of that, you've just become unemployed. Your ex is marrying a girl you like, but who you don't think is right for him. Perhaps you were right for him and you've realised too late. You're trying to help him out but he's not listening to you, and he's dragged you back from Japan to watch him marry another woman, and now he's decided he doesn't want you at here at all.

"I snuck some scotch in from the duty free store. You want to join me?"

_Please say yes, Barney. Please. _You're not sure if you want to joke around with him and forget this is all happening, or if you want to tell him about how horribly wrong everything's gone, or if you want to get into bed with him. Any one of them. Anything.

"Yeah, yeah," be breathes. _Thank God._ "Let's go to your room. Far away from this room, and we can knock it back,"

And suddenly you don't care if this is how he operates and this is what he does with any vulnerable girl. You're eying his body (Thing You Notice Number Five: His untidy hair, just asking for you to run your hands through it. Number Six: The creases on his hip bones above the line of his pyjama bottoms. Number Seven: His ears. You're not someone who believes that anything is perfect, but Barney Stinson's ears might be the exception. Huh, you really are tired, aren't you?)

"They didn't get me a room. I was actually hoping I could stay with you," _Let me in the room and I promise you can do whatever you want to me. _

"No problem," he says, and he moves sideways a little.

And that's when you notice Thing Number Eight.

_Oh._

_ Right. _

_Of course. _

_That explains things, then. _

_Right._

"I just have to straighten up little bit,"

_Of course you do, Barney. _As fast as the notion of wanting to have sex with him appeared, the notion of I'm-an-adult-having-a-serious-emotional-problem-an d-I-really-don't-have-time-for-you forms. Barney is, of course, still making excuses.

"I've got some clothes on the floor, and-"

_Don't waste your breath, _you think bitterly.

"And a naked girl tied to your headboard,"

She's lying on her side with the sheet strewn over her, watching you with big brown eyes. You _hate _her. Because you need him and she doesn't, but she still got there first.

"Towels all over the bathroom," Barney's spieling, "It's a mess,"

You realise that you don't hate the girl at all. You hate _him. _That girl's only an idiot who doesn't know what she's got herself in for- but he_ does_. This is Barney being Barney, and it's _him _whose no doubt talked this girl into bed, it's _him _who's doing this when you really need him. It's him who can't understand that there's an actual problem with adult emotions going on. It's him whose still acting like this is a normal night in MacLaren's and not his best friend's wedding. It's him who can't imagine there being anything more to life than sex, and it's him who can't think of anything apart from his next lay.

You could really_, really_ hurt him, and not in a hot way.

"So anyway, give me ten minutes to get the place in order,"

So he can finish with this girl, and _then_ be ready to support you. Because that's the kind of friend he is.

You hate him, and you hate yourself for thinking that you needed him. For allowing Ted to make you feel so vulnerable that you were ready to become a Barney-whore. For becoming someone weak, who allows herself to be hurt and manipulated by men.

You don't need him. You don't need Barney, and you don't need Ted, and you certainly won't allow your emotions to be dictated by either of them any longer.

"See you, Barney,"

You put the scotch in your bag and get a cab to the ferry terminal without looking back.

* * *

**Thanks for reading this story please review! **

**I'm sort of working on a Ch2 in Barney PoV.**

**P.S- Anyone think it's ironic that Ted meets the Mother at his ex's wedding. Just sayin'.**


	2. Chapter 2

** Well, it was only fair that Barney got his side of the story told, so here's Chapter 2. Quite a bit of sex in this one, but nothing majorly explicit. I hope you enjoy.**

_ You're putting on an awesome show,_

_ The cabin pressure's rising-_

_ My Coke has got no ice in now!_

Busted, Air Hostess

You're stunning and you know it. You've got a face straight out of GQ and a body to match. You do a hundred sit up, press ups and chin ups every evening, plus gym. You buy only the highest quality shampoos, soaps and aftershaves. You have a weekly manicure and pedicure, and a fortnightly chest wax and facial. You have the most electric blue eyes you've ever seen (ironically). You have immaculate blond hair- girls always notice a guy with blond hair. You have perfect skin, and your cheekbones are so sharp girls have been known to cut their hands on your face. And let's not even start on the suits.

In short, you are utterly exquisite.

It hardly counts as arrogance if it's the truth.

Today, however, is the first time in your life that you wished you don't look as good as you know you do. Today, you wish you were a Marshall or a Ted. On any other day you'd be talking down to them for not being as hot as you, or gloating over Ted because you're getting hit on way more than he is. You'd be lapping (what up) the attention up and these girls would be queuing outside your room for a piece of the Barnacle. But today you wish you weren't drop dead gorgeous, because then they'd leave you alone.

"Tomorrow night I want to do things so dirty and so depraved that I forget that this was supposed to be my wedding,"

"I _would_ like to see what you're packing in under that suit,"

"Your back is going to look like a Jackson Pollock,"

_AAARGH!_

* * *

"Hey, Blondie," You wheel round. The receptionist girl is leaning over the counter; you can see nearly all the way down her top.

"I'm knocking off for the day now. Fancy helping me blow off some steam?"

She winks and walks round he front of the desk, as you squeal;

"No, I'm fine, thank you," your voice sounding embarrassingly like a fourteen-year-old boy's.

"You look like you know how to show a girl a good time,"

She looks you slowly up and down, her gaze loitering on your chest and your crotch, and you can feel your blood heating. _No. Come on, keep it together. Remember the plan- get her drunk at Ted's wedding. _You've got Robin on the plane so she'll be here. She'll be vulnerable ; anyone can see that she's not entirely over Ted (you try not to let this make you feel like throwing something). You've bootlegged a bottle of scotch into Vegansville, so all you now need to do is wait until she gets here, resist these other girls- and then Robin is yours for the taking. _I can do this._

"I'm…actually with…someone," you croak hoarsely. _Well done._

"Hmm…" she crosses over to you and stops when her breasts are a millimetre away from your chest. _Ah. This is not good._

"I'm sure she won't mind," Sweat's beginning to form on your forehead. _Walk away. Tell her I'm not interested and walk away. _Your head's begging you to shrug her off- but the sweet, familiar buzz of lust is beginning to simmer, and it glues your feet to the floor.

"You really are something, aren't you?" she murmurs, and moves slightly, inducing the slightest bit of friction where her breasts skim again you. You grit your teeth but it doesn't quell the thrum of testosterone in your ears.

_God, reception girl's hot. And she's more than up for it….but Robin… but reception girl's got Cs and she hasn't had sex in twenty-three days….but perhaps once I've gone to town on Robin I can try to tell her how I feel about her….but come on, this girl's practically drooling over me right now….BUT ROBIN!_

"I c-can't…"

She disregards your stammered protests as her fingers fondle the knot of your tie. That's the one thing that gets you going like crazy- you're quivering with desire as your last barrier of integrity falls. _She's an eight at least. I know exactly what we're going to do to each other, and it's going to be mind-blowing._

Her fingers brush your neck making your Adam's apple jerk. Your rationality is fading fast. Her lips are so, so close to yours.

_I don't think there's a way back now._

"A very," she undoes your top button, "Nice. Piece. Of. Work,"

You grab each other at the same time; your hands go to either side of her face as you mash your lips to hers, her hand goes to your crotch. She flexes her thumb, stroking you a little through your suit trousers- and you can't help grunting in satisfaction.

Reception girl breaks the kiss and bites sharp little nips into the skin of your neck. _Fuck, this is perfect. _Your hands move up and down her waist, holding her to you while she nips at your ear.

"What's your room number?" she whispers between bites. You don't reply; you haul her with you across the lobby into the corridor. She's pulling at the buttons on your shirt and you back her up against the wall, grinding your hips against hers. She whimpers and there _aren't words _to describe how _awesome _that makes you feel- when you hear a girl make that noise that because of _you_. Knowing that you have that _power_ always turns you on, and if you weren't nursing a partial before, you are now.

Somehow you manage to stumble together into your room, and then she's going for your belt and you're going for her bra. She licks her lips greedily- actually licks her lips like girls only do in porn movies. Do you they not have men at this hippy place?! Reception girl runs the back of her hand across your abs and kisses you, close-mouthed- although you can't help but search for her tongue with yours. She laughs. You toss her bra off and pull her over to your bed, but she picks your tie with her foot along the way. She nods at you to get onto the bed, and you do, and this is going to be_ tremendous. _ Reception girl ties your wrist to the bedpost with the tie, then kisses your cheek and straddles you, trailing her lips along your jaw.

"You belong to me, mmm?" she says, pushing you onto your back. You moan in submission- because it's a long time since you forgot that you're supposed to belong to Robin Scherbatsky.

* * *

The girl half-exhales, half-laughs into the crook of your neck and rolls off you.

"I knew you know how to show a girl a good time," she sighs. You grin smugly and wrangle your hand free from the tie. She's not going anywhere in a hurry, but just now was_ so_ good that allow yourself only ten seconds to get your breath and circulation back before proclaiming giddily-

"My turn now,"

You take the other end of the tie off the bedpost and begin to tie it around her wrist. She giggles (she's an animal in bed- as you've just found out- but she giggles like a nine-year-old) and pouts,

"You belong to me, remember?"

You scoff and lean over her, pinning down her arm with your own. "Challenge accepted,"

She kisses your chin as you finish tying her up. Your torso's on top of hers, your elbows are pressed into the mattress either side of her head, and her free hand lazily stokes your ribcage.

Then there's a knock at the door.

You both ignore it- but then there's another knock. You should probably get that.

You grimace apologetically at Reception girl and disentangle yourself from her. Your clothes are scattered around the floor- nearest is your dress shirt and pyjama bottoms. You wriggle into them and stagger over to the door. You're expecting a staff member or a cleaner- or Ted moaning on about some next crisis. What you're not expecting, is Robin.

But she's there anyway.

Your first thought is _Holy fuck, she's beautiful. _In a high-necked jumper you can barely see any skin, but the mere sight of her, coupled with the testosterone still churning through your system, is enough to make you hope that you're not going to get a hard-on from simply _seeing_ her.

"Hey, Robin," you manage to croak.

More than your next breath, you want to take hold of her and have her now, up against the wall. It doesn't matter that you've only just finished one round of sex- you're desperate for it- desperate for _her- _now.

And then the reality of the situation sinks in.

Robin is in front of you; vulnerable at Ted's wedding. This is exactly what you wanted. Except Reception girl is behind you, tied to your bed post.

Shit.

You couldn't do it, you'd you? You planned and calculated and wrote equations- but when it came down to it, you couldn't stop thinking with your dick for five minutes. If you had any sense, if your integrity was a little stronger than to be drowned in a puddle of testosterone the minute some big-boobed girl is near you, this would be your chance. You can tell from Robin's face that she's upset, and she's willing to let anything happen between you and her if only she can forget about Ted. You've probably got no hope of rescuing this- but you can try.

"Barney," (You hate the way your heart spasms whenever she says your name), "I am having a_ horrible _day,"

_She really does look bad. She looks terrible. _Unexpectedly, your lust for her fades and is gradually replaced by a desire to simply put your arms around her. You want to hold her hand and let her cry into your collar, and you want to try to make her laugh. That's nothing to do with sex at all. That's to do with _love. _

You really are in way over your head.

"I snuck some scotch in from the duty free store. You want to join me?"

_Of course. Of course. You don't even need to ask. _(See how alike to two of you are?- _you_ smuggled scotch in as well)

"Yeah, yeah," you breathe, hoping that by some miracle you can escape with Robin down the corridor together and leave reception girl in your bed. This being-in-love, wanting-to-comfort-her feeling terrifies you- but it matters way more than a girl you met half an hour ago.

"Let's go to your room. Far away from this room, and we can knock it back,"

Her eyes glance up and down your body, and you recognise the flare behind her irises as lust. _Jesus Christ, she wants me. Robin Scherbatsky wants_ _me. _You feel so pleased, but the excitement of knowing you might be about to have sex with her still doesn't outweigh your unexpected need talk to her and hold her and press brotherly kisses to her hair.

Normally you never feel prouder than when a girl is writhing underneath you or pulling at your hair or whimpering into your kisses- like Reception girl was against the wall earlier. Normally that makes you feel like the biggest man alive, because knowing _you_ can make a girl feel like that is so empowering, so _awesome_…but now you reckon that you'd feel like the biggest man alive if you had your arm around Robin and were making her feel better. Cheering Robin up would be more empowering and awesome than making any- _every_- other girl in the world go weak at the knees from your kisses. Making Robin Scherbatsky laugh through her tears is the most awesome thing you can imagine.

"They didn't get me a room. I was actually hoping I could stay with you,"

Your first thought is _Wow! _and your second is _Come here, let me look after you. _Then you start thinking practically-_How should I play this? Tell her she can't stay so I have time to get rid of Reception girl? Tell her she can and try to hide reception girl…okay, that's stupid, that won't work. _

You're only solution is to stall her long enough to kick the reception girl out…or at least hide her in the bathroom.

"No problem," you lie bracingly, half-glancing back into the room as if to check on the state of it. You're a good liar, you can carry this, "I just have to straighten up little bit.I've got some clothes on the floor, and-"

"And a naked girl tied to your headboard,"

Not as good a liar as you thought.

Robin's voice is harsh. You cannot blame her.

_Shit. I've blown it. If I could Goddamn control myself around women, Robin come into my room and I'd comfort her and make her laugh, and then _maybe_ we'd end up in bed together. But I'm a sex-pest idiot, so that's not going to happen._

You keep talking because you always do.

"Towels all over the bathroom. It's a mess," _Too right it's a mess. She's a mess, you're a mess; this whole thing's a Goddamn mess._

You don't expect her to wait for you (you couldn't wait for her) but you attempt a final offer-

"So anyway, give me ten minutes to get the place in order,"

Robin's already walking away when she says callously, "See you, Barney,"

You murmur a protest but it's useless- she's gone and she should go.

Sometimes it feels like one part of you is working against the other- one part desperately wanted to resist reception girl and wait for Robin, but the other part allowed itself to be dictated by lust, and that part won out. It's a childish excuse- _it wasn't me, it was my evil twin! I don't want to be naughty but some part of me does!- _and you shouldn't be making excuses. You should accept that you're an adult capable of making decisions, who needs to learn to think before he fucks.

Argh, you're an idiot. You squeeze your eyes shut and knock your head against the doorframe in frustration. Everything's gone wrong and you feel miserable. You wonder where Robin will go, if she'll be okay. Actually, you've been such douche today that you probably don't _deserve_ to worry about her. Why do you have to ruin everything for yourself? You suck at emotional stuff, but you could have tried a lot harder with it today. You could have made more of an effort to wait, to resist- to be a decent friend. You really are messed up.

Stella's sister appears beside you, peering into your bedroom. "Who the hell is that?" she demands.

You blink a couple of times in surprise (she's pretty hot as well- _oh, shut up!)_ and hear yourself stammer, "Uh, it's the girl from the front desk,"

Stella's sister's eyes flick from her to you and back again. You're still fuming and puzzling about Robin, so you're a little confused as to why Stella's sister's suddenly turned up. You hope she's not about to punch you (you're lucky that Robin didn't kick your teeth in).

She does not punch you. Instead, she pushes past you into the bedroom.

Lust detonates yet again in your stomach and you gasp, "Oh my God!" grasping on to the doorframe as you knees go weak with excitement.

Perhaps being utterly exquisite has been a good thing today after all.

* * *

Ted would say that when you emerge from your room two hours later-giggling, gasping, stumbling- you feel guilty and you're still angry at yourself for ruining your Robin plan. He'd say that the sex hasn't made you feel any better (because of a complicated technicality, it doesn't quite count as riding the tricycle. Normally you'd overlook the ruling- but when you beat Ted, you want to have done it properly).If anything- he'd say- the sex had made you feel worse.

The truth is- you feel _amazing_. You've lost count of how many rounds you went; lost count of how many times they yelped your name, of how many hickeys there are on your neck and scratches there are on your back. Admittedly, you know that two hours of fantastic sex doesn't feel as good as two minutes holding Robin's hand would- but you've scuppered any chance of that happening. So you'll take the fantastic sex and you sure as hell won't complain.

* * *

**This chapter was difficult but enjoyable to write. Writing in 2****nd****-person evokes sympathy, although I don't think Barney deserves much sympathy in this episode, so that was a challenge. I really hope you liked this chapter- feedback is massively appreciated, so please drop me a review!**

**PS- Thanks to Irene Adler from Sherlock for the line about cutting your hands on cheekbones ;) **


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